


Adrift

by hanktalkin



Series: The Safest Place [2]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Fishing, Isolation, M/M, Non-Traditional Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-28 03:38:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12597276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanktalkin/pseuds/hanktalkin
Summary: Once the lines were in and safely stowed, Demo looked up to see Soldier still leaning on the side of the boat. His back was to the railing, gazing up at the millions of stars that glittered around them. The canvas of sky touched all four corners of the world, encasing them in a dome of isolation.“’S different than out in the desert,” Demo said, joining Soldier at the railing.“Yeah,” Soldier muttered softy. “Closer.”





	Adrift

Their rented fishing boat careened in the waves as the last of the light faded. They were too intoxicated to care. It wasn’t like they were catching anything anyway, their elbowing and playful shrugs scaring away most of ocean’s occupants. Instead of admitting defeat, they watched their lines catch the moonlight and recede into the inky black of the waves, chasing each other like two silver star trails.

“I’m going to catch him!” Soldier drunkenly proclaimed. “He’s mine and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I could push you in,” Demo grinned. “That’d just about do it.”

“You would not be able to! I throw you overboard before you even tried! Do you think your foreign-manufactured combat skills could ever compete with home grown American br-”

Reaching out, Demo gave Soldier a little shove on the shoulder. The BLU swaggered, momentarily losing his footing in the swaying boat.

“That’s cheating,” he muttered.

Demo couldn’t help but laugh at that, voice flying over the soft jazz of the radio and the endlessly bouncing waves. Soldier pouted for a moment, but Demo’s laugh was infectious, and soon even he was chuckling along to how stupid drunk they both were.

The salt filled their lungs, and Demo felt a warm glow in his stomach when Soldier’s helmet tilted up just enough. From there, he could see the American’s eyes, reflecting the full moon and so much more. It was good. A rare moment where the two of them were alone for miles around, free to be themselves where the only witnesses were their recent catch.

“I think he’s lost, lad,” Demo told Soldier with all the solemnness he could muster. “All the fishes are snuggling down for the night.”

“Are you admitting defeat, Tavish?” Soldier demanded, that look in his eyes that was wonderfully familiar.

“Ach, don’t think of it as defeat!” Demo said. “Think of it as…coming back to fight another day. Besides, we’ve already defeated two of his friends, it’d be a shame if we had nothing left to fish next time.”

Demo indicated the large cooler, where they’d already stuff two massive swordfish they’d caught during the day. It’d made for an excellent photo, Soldier and Demo holding one each, and Demo had already tucked the Polaroid safely into his wallet.

Soldier considered the proposition for a moment longer.

“Acknowledged!” he said finally. “Your logic is sound, private!”

“Isn’t it always?” Demo asked as he began to reel in their lines.

“Mostly. Except when it comes to what is acceptable men’s clothing.”

Demo gave Soldier another push, sending him laughing against the railing.

Once the lines were in and safely stowed, Demo looked up to see Soldier still leaning on the side of the boat. His back was to the railing, gazing up at the millions of stars that glittered around them. The canvas of sky touched all four corners of the world, encasing them in a dome of isolation.

“’S different than out in the desert,” Demo said, joining Soldier at the railing.

“Yeah,” Soldier muttered softy. “Closer.”

His shoulder brushed against Demo’s, and the RED didn’t hesitate to press right back. Freeing an arm, he tucked it around Soldier’s shoulders, bringing the other man close to his chest. They stayed like that, swaying in the embrace of their ship while the radio crooned on, a night breeze blowing in and pricking hairs along the back of Demo’s neck. Soldier huddled closer, sinking his fingers into the fabric of Demo’s shirt.

“Tavish…” he muttered.

Demo swallowed. He knew what Soldier wanted, even without as many words. Nodding, he extracted himself from the embrace, leading Soldier below deck.

It was rare Soldier wanted anything from him. They didn’t do this often—maybe only five or six times in total. Each time Soldier said he didn’t have to, but he was always able to bat the stuttered sayings away. He knew Soldier needed this, and, in a guilty sort of way, Demo got something out of it too.

They descended the stairs into the boat’s only bedroom, both occupying the same space. Demo could feel Soldier’s face buried in his shoulder, and tightened his hand in reply. It was a lot of communicating this way, with gentle bumps and longing glances. A thumb tracing a gentle pattern on the outside of a hand. Smiles in public when they really should be looking anywhere else.

Demo kicked out of his shoes, the first to make it to the bed. It was a lot nicer than they were used to, quilted covers instead of a sheetless mattress. It still smelled of salt.

Crawling against the headboard, Demo turned around to watch Soldier follow him. Soldier didn’t look back. Whenever the Demoman got him off, he was just as shy as the first time, as though loosing his virginity all over again. But they weren’t having sex, not exactly. Nothing was ever as simple as that.

Demo wished it were though. He wished he could realize he was gay, have a brief crisis, and then move on with his life.

But it wasn’t that. He never had sexual inclinations toward Soldier, just this deep feeling in his gut that couldn’t be explained with words. It hit him when Soldier smiled at him too genuinely, when they talked about their families after having a bit too much to drink. When Soldier was half-naked and the only thing in the world Demo wanted was to make him feel good.

With his back to the headboard, Demo spread his legs just a bit. Enough that his lap was comfortable enough for Soldier to slide onto it, knees bumping just below Demo’s ribs. It was warm, cozy, Soldier’s nose already pressed to Demo’s cheek. The position they’d found that suited them best.

“Comfortable?” Demo asked, gently winding a hand to the back of Soldier’s head.

Soldier nodded, clinging like a baby monkey before they’d even started.

Demo’s hands got to work. They undid the front of Soldier’s pants, eliciting a sharp sigh of temporarily relief. It wasn’t long before they washed it away again, building tension with each practiced movement.

If Demo felt like lying to himself, he would say that it wasn’t much different than doing it solo, but that was so flimsy not even his own self-delusion would buy it for long. It was astronomically dissimilar, it might as well have been comparing mouthwash to the good scotch from Demo’s fortieth birthday. The motions were similar, but there was nothing that could compare.

Because every twitch of his hand made Soldier whimper in pleasure, every fondle making the BLU need him more. It triggered something inside him, something instinctual and protective.

A wish to make Soldier the most loved person in the world.

Demo’s free hand roamed higher, pushing up Soldier’s shirt to expose the hair on his stomach. He aimed there, to keep any mess against its owner’s skin.

Soldier was crying now, light tears mixing on Demo’s cheek. Demo himself could hardly breath as he jerked Soldier harder, his nose pressed so firmly into the American’s neck that air came through in rasps. He didn’t care. He wanted this. He _needed_ this.

He wanted Jane so badly in a way that couldn’t be explained. He wanted ever minute of their existence to be shared and he wanted to be the one that made Jane the happiest. He wanted all of it, all of it…

Jane moaned into his ear.

Tavish kept going, helping Jane to completion, but never wanting this to stop. Even as Jane tried to peel away, the wanting didn’t leave, this unexplainable need for his best friend who was still shuddering after the high. Tavish held him, clung right back, whishing he could explain what he sought…

He kissed Jane.

It was one smooth motion, gliding forward and meeting Jane’s lips with his own. There wasn’t even any hesitation before Jane pressed back into him, so forcefully their teeth clacked. Their heads made a swaying dance as just the tip of Jane’s tongue made it into his mouth.

Jane was the one to pull away. His eyes were alight with realization and a subtle joy, both mellowed by the shock he must have felt. “Tavish…” he said, not knowing where to begin.

But then something changed. A look of utter guilt ruined his face, and he looked down at himself. He was at a loss, and he clumsily pressed a hand against the front of Tavish’s pants.

“No,” Tavish hissed immediately, hand clamping down on Jane’s wrist.

Now Jane’s face was a torrent of confusion as well as guilt, and Tavish regretted his sharpness.

“No,” Tavish repeated, softer this time. “I…don’t want that. I was never looking for anything back Jane, don’t feel like you owe me.”

Jane nodded, understanding, and slowly withdrew his hand. “Then…?”

Tavish closed his eye. “I don’t know. I can’t even…begin to explain what I want. Just…this.”

He brushed the side of Jane’s face, his hand landing near his ear. This time, instead of gliding into each other, he pulled Jane toward him, the kiss landing against his lips in a perfect shot. The moment was lost, shifted around by the swaying of the boat in their little sanctuary. But Jane smiled against his lips, understanding what Tavish couldn’t make his words explain.

“Okay,” Jane muttered. And they held each other, adrift but not alone.


End file.
